“We’re going to meet your brother. You and the children will stay with him, and I will come back and look for the veil’s tear.”
“But, Ever, these aren’t our children,” she said, her heart shattering as she did.
“We can’t simply leave them with him—”
“I know that.” She prayed for the right words. “But I just need to be sure we’re doing the right thing.” Isa paused. “They’re hers, too,” she whispered.
“Well, what do you propose we do?” he demanded. “Leave them with the father who gave them up to his wife of darkness? Or should we leave them to the Fae when she sends another creature to chase them?”
A tear slipped down Isa’s cheek in the dark. That hurt. “Of course not,” she said. She wanted them so badly it hurt. Every moment she held Henri’s sleeping form close it broke her heart just a little more. They had said the vows. For one fleeting moment, she had been a mother.
They sat silently, not looking at one another for an immeasurable moment as the sounds of the forest echoed around them. Thank the Maker the storm had abated, although thunder would have been a welcomed alternative to the brittle quiet now. Finally, in the thin light of the moon, Isa could see Ever rub his face with his hand, the stubble of his untrimmed beard making a scratching sound as he did. “We need to keep going.”
Isa nodded and nudged her horse forward.
Hours slipped by as they passed through the forest. Isa could feel tingles run up and down her bones, some stronger than others, as they went. The darkness seeped out of dark nooks and crannies beneath stones and in the shadows of the trees. Never had she felt the Sorthileige in so many places. How had they been so naive as to think the dark magic had been nearly banished from their land? But then again, they had been blind enough to miss the children’s true connection to Sacha. It seemed so obvious now.
“Where are we?” Henri raised his head and rubbed his eyes.
“You won’t be staying with them after all,” Isa said, not answering his question.
“Is it because they lost us on purpose?”
How much did he know?
“Some of it, yes,” Isa said cautiously, wishing she could see his face better, rather than sitting behind him.
“Why would my father do that?” Henri asked then, his voice suddenly angrier than Isa had ever heard it.
“Because some men are just bastards,” Ever growled. Isa shot him a pointed look, but Ever just ignored it.
Another silence stretched until the fuzzy gray of morning began to break through the trees. Finally, Isa worked up enough courage to ask Henri a question she knew might hurt him. But it had to be asked. “Henri, did you recognize the woman who tended to us in the Fae world? The one who brought me to you, and who gave you cookies?”
“No.” To Isa’s great relief, Henri shook his head. “Why? Are you going to give us to her?”
“We will be doing no such thing,” Ever said in a stern voice. “It’s still early. You need to go back to sleep.”
To Isa’s surprise, the boy only gave Ever a long look, before nodding slightly and leaning back against her. In only a few more minutes, he was snoring lightly.
“I’m sorry.” Ever said when Isa looked at him, his gray, fire-ringed eyes were burning into hers.
“For what?”
“For how I spoke with you earlier.” He sighed. “It was just... in the moment the bastard admitted to giving them up, I finally understood the pain you must have been feeling for so long. I... I wanted them.”
Isa’s eyes must have been ridiculously wide as she listened, but she was too enthralled to care.
“I’ve always wanted an heir,” he continued. “It was expected, just a part of life. But now... now I want children. These children. And it kills me that I cannot change the life they’ve had to live when I have been only a short distance away. And the things that monster did to my sister?” He shrugged helplessly. “Maybe I could have prevented all of this long ago.”
Isa sighed as he spoke. Once again, her husband had managed to hide a world of pain from even her. And yet, her heart soared as it dawned on her that she was no longer alone in such longing. That he felt it, too. “There’s no use in such thinking,” she finally said softly. “You had no way of knowing what your father had done.”
Ever moved his horse closer so he could reach out and gently squeeze her arm. “You asked if we were doing the right thing in taking them from their old home. They might not be my siblings, but they are still my father’s grandchildren, which makes them children of the Fortress. Let us content ourselves for now knowing that we are still protecting them. And that’s what matters.” He paused. “We will sort it all out when things are better and the danger is not so high.”
In the early morning light, Isa wondered again at just how incredibly striking her husband was. The sharp angles of his face and the way the gray morning light reflected off of his armor made him look fierce, but the vulnerable, gentle way he was looking into her eyes made her want to melt. Suddenly, her tired muscles felt loose and relaxed, and Isa felt a serenity like she hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. It was with a sudden intensity that she longed to draw him close and kiss him as she never had before, to hold his face in her hands, and to run her hand through his short golden hair. Had she ever loved him so much? Had she ever needed him so much?
“How are you feeling?” he asked, the kind look still on his face as he searched hers.
“I might have been helping the children sleep, so a bit more tired than I would have been otherwise, but,” she paused and smiled, “I don’t think I have ever been better or happier in my life.”
The look Ever gave her was a reward itself, for just then the sun rose and set his golden hair aflame, and his smile was like its own beam of light.
Oh, why did they have to be running for their life just at this moment? She would much rather have spent it with her lips on his, holding him tightly against her, away from harm and sorrow. Just as she began to say as much, Henri startled awake, and then Genny. The brother and sister briefly looked at one another before Henri twisted around to look at Isa, his eyes troubled. Green mist floated through them as he gazed up at her.
“Someone’s coming.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Mother
Isa tightened her grip on Henri as dozens of men and women with blank faces and pikes made a half circle about them. Sacha rode to the center of the semicircle and stood before Isa and Ever on her own horse. Isa wanted to scream in frustration. How had she found them? Then she remembered the two miserable creatures back in the cottage they had just left.
“You.” Sacha turned to a nearby male with a pike. Wordlessly, he came and helped her down from her horse, where she stood and stretched for a moment before speaking. From the way she moved, Isa guessed Sacha was not used to riding horses for long distances. Isa hoped her behind would bruise. She also wished bruises upon the two degenerates they had just left behind. Sacha must have been just on their trail the whole time.
“Henri.” Isa tensed as Sacha turned to her son. Her voice was gentler than Isa had ever heard it. “Do you remember me?”
Henri leaned back into Isa as he studied the woman before him. “No.” He paused. “Wait. You were the woman in the other world, the one who gave us cookies.”
“Yes, that was me. But do you not remember me from before?”
Henri shook his head, and a brief flash of pain lit the woman’s face before she smiled again.
“I’m your mum. Your real mum.” When Henri didn’t respond, she picked up a nearby stone and set it flat in her palm. With the snap of her fingers, she set the stone on fire and began to roll it along her fingers. “Do you remember,” she whispered, “when we used to do this together?”
“That’s Henri’s trick!” Genny said, pointing.
But Henri stiffened beneath Isa’s arm. “You look different from her.”
She smiled wryly. “I look like the queen I am now
, if that’s what you mean.” She eyed him up and down. “Just as you have come to look like the prince you truly are.”
Isa closed her eyes briefly and tried to test the woman’s heart. What was she up to, trying to contact the children she had abandoned? And why now? But unfortunately, it seemed that Sacha could be just at skilled at masking her feelings and intentions as her brother could be. What little Isa could taste was fear. But what was she afraid of?
Sacha walked a few steps closer, and Isa clutched the boy more tightly to her until Henri turned and looked at Isa directly, his blue eyes full of questions.
“You knew she was my mother?”
“Your father only told us last night,” Isa said.
Sacha’s face was beginning to redden, and she had taken one more step towards them when Genny spoke up. “King Ever, who’s that?”
“My darling!” Sacha turned to the little girl as though just remembering that she had a daughter. Ever’s eyes burned more brightly, and like Isa, he squeezed the little girl more tightly to his broad chest. “You don’t remember me,” Sacha stretched her hand out, “but I’m your mummy!” Genny leaned back into Ever and frowned, but Sacha continued to stretch both arms out. “Give me my daughter,” she said in a strained voice. “I have not held her since she was a babe.”
“An injustice that is your fault entirely. If you think I am going to willingly hand over a child that you sent a violent Fae to fetch, after you abandoned her twice, then you are sorely mistaken.” Ever drew his sword with the arm not holding Genny. “Either of these children, for that matter.”
In response, Isa drew her own sword, and the soldiers began to thin into green mists, staying just solid enough to hold their pikes. Sacha drew her sword as well.
In one swift move, Ever was off his horse, and had wedged Genny in the little space between Isa and Henri. He slapped her horse on the rump. “Go!” he shouted. Just as her horse turned, however, it stopped and reared. Pain shot through Isa as she was slammed to the ground, with Genny landing on her chest, and Henri on her legs. She wasn’t allowed to recover her breath, though, for the Fae were upon them immediately. Green mists faded in and out as the Fae moved between their two forms like snowdrops melting and then freezing once again. Isa leapt to her feet as well as she could, still holding Genny against her legs as Henri scrambled back to stand beside her.
Fortress, she cried out inside, I will not pretend to know what you are about here, but please protect your children, just as you promised!
Bringing her sword up, Isa could feel the Fortress’s power move out of her like rain bursting forth from a storm cloud, heavy and dark. It was not the heart power that she usually felt, but rather, the same fiery strength that Ever possessed. And today, it was hers.
Genny shrieked as the first Fae made its attack, thickening again and grabbing its pike from the ground as it moved in toward her. But Isa met his attack easily. As more and more Fae, male and female, tried to touch Isa with the poisonous pikes, Isa could feel the power of the fortress pulsing around and through her. The Fae gnashed the teeth in their blank, simple faces, but no matter how many seemed to pile in around them, only one at a time could seem to step through the blue whirlwind of fire that surrounded her and the children. And Isa was more than ready, all thoughts of exhaustion gone as Genny pressed in at her legs and Henri at her side. The attacks continued to come, but each only further ignited Isa’s raw determination.
Ever, however, seemed to have received no such respite. The flash of his sword against his sister’s was blinding, lightning striking repeatedly as they clashed. Isa peeked at them between her opponents’ attacks, and was dismayed to see that Sacha seemed to be just as skilled with the sword as Ever. Even her twists and turns were familiar as they battled over the rocky, pinecone-littered terrain. For the first time in her life, Isa wondered if Ever would defeat his opponent. His sister’s power was palpable, and her moves swift and deadly. His many times in battle should have given him the edge. But the rage Isa could feel radiating from Sacha’s heart was vicious.
A shriek from Genny snapped Ever’s head toward them and reminded Isa of her own fight. She had become lazy in her defenses. A female Fae had edged closer to them, despite the fire wind’s blanket of safety. Isa quickly knocked the pike from the woman’s hands, but the damage had been done. Ever’s distraction had given Sacha the chance to spring at him and knock his sword out of his hand. Ever immediately grabbed Sacha’s wrist, the one that held her sword. Back and forth the sword went, first closer to one face and then to the other. Ever immediately cried out, though, when Sacha delivered a kick to his bad knee. The Fae stopped attacking Isa, also watching their leader face off with Destin’s king. The longer they fought, however, for control of the sword, the more Ever began to lose his ground. The angle at which he gripped the sword was awkward.
“Stop!”
Everyone, even Sacha and Ever, turned to look at Henri. Before Isa could stop him, he broke away from her, darting through the changing green mists and blank faces and threw himself between them. “We’re going with my mother. Genny and me.”
Isa turned to resume her fight, for there was no way she and Ever would allow such a thing. But for the second time that day, she was tossed to the ground so hard her vision spun. A blurry figure pulled Genny from Isa’s arms and carried her away. Not far off, Ever cried out. Then all went black.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Not Hers
Two whole days of travel passed before Henri could gather the courage to talk to his mother.
His mother. What a strange thing to say.
It seemed wrong to call her Mother when she was the one who had sentenced King Ever and Queen Isa to ride behind them as captives even after his sacrifice. He had hoped that upon giving himself up and going with the new woman, the king and queen would be allowed to run to her brother as they had planned to do. Then they could return to the Fortress and save them all. He had never expected the Fae to strike Miss Isa upon the head, or worse, for another to stab the king. The pike head had gone so far into the king’s shoulder that the two leaves tied to it had also been buried in the flesh. Now as they rode, the king’s face was deathly pale, and his body shuddered from time to time. He might have fallen off of his horse if they hadn’t tied him to it.
Perhaps, if Henri were brave enough, he might convince his mother to be kinder to them. He swallowed hard, clutching Genny tightly to his chest, before riding up beside his mother’s horse, thankful again that Miss Isa had taught him to ride a horse, so he didn’t have to ride with one of the blank-faced Fae that surrounded them.
“How do you know him?” he asked.
“Hm, what?” His mother shook her head, as though awakening from a daydream.
He repeated his question.
“Henri, that man is my younger brother, your uncle.”
“Our uncle? Then why didn’t we meet him before?”
“Oh, he was too busy guarding his riches and wealth and training his precious army.” Her eyes glinted the way Genny’s did when she was about to throw a fit. Henri would have to tread carefully.
“Is he why you left?” he asked softly.
She turned to look down at him, and her eyes softened. “In a way, I suppose.”
“Because you wanted to see him?”
At this, her eyes nearly bulged. “Why would I do that?” Henri looked down at the ground that passed beneath them, but his mother continued. “Why would I visit the man who lived only days away and let his nephew and niece and sister nearly starve to death? That man is dangerous, cruel, and selfish, not at all the man he’s tricked you into thinking he is. Never doubt for a moment that Everard Fortier is an instrument of evil.” Her frown deepened. “Just as my father was.” She stopped talking for a moment and studied Henri for the first time since she’d met them in the forest two days before. “Out of curiosity, why do you ask?”
Henri had to take a deep breath as he struggled to hold her gaze. What he wanted
to say seemed very much like it would make her angry. That the things she and her people had done to the king and queen were cruel and nothing like what he could ever do to Genny, even if he were very angry with her. “I... I don’t remember you much,” he finally said in a low voice. Not a true answer to her question, but it seemed to appease her, for the intense glare once again softened on her face.
“What do you remember?”
“You taught me my trick.” He held up his hand and briefly rolled a little ball of blue flame between his fingers.
She nodded. “What else?”
Henri looked back down at his sister’s curly yellow hair. She hadn’t said a word since the king and queen had been tied up. Not even their mother’s best pleading and promises of treats had gotten her to speak. And, Henri realized with annoyance, she really didn’t have any reason to. He might have vague memories of his mother’s face, the way her chin had a handsome tilt to it, or how she rolled the fire around her fingers. But when it came to Genny, Henri had done it all. His mother had done nothing. He could feel the heat rise to his face, and before thinking better of it, he snapped.
“I remember teaching Genny to walk. And talk. And Stepmother made me learn to braid her hair so she wouldn’t have to. And you didn’t say anything when we were in that other world, even though you knew it was us!” He was suddenly shouting. “Miss Isa and King Ever talked to us and spent time with us. More than you ever did!”
His mother held her fingers up and snapped them, uttering something under her breath that Henri couldn’t hear. His mouth immediately shut, though he wasn’t done talking.
“Hold!” his mother called up to the front before moving her horse over to his until she was close enough to reach over and grab his chin roughly. Henri tried to jerk his face free, but she was too strong. As she leaned in, her short, golden hair swayed back and forth along her jawline. “I don’t care what your uncle did with or for you before I was here. Everything I did, including leaving, was for you and your sister. I wanted to give the world to you. This world! But I couldn’t do that with your worthless father around, so I had to go! I even sent you with the queen so you could live in the palace until I came. But from now on, you will respect and obey me, or you will be very sorry you didn’t. Understand me?”
Beauty Beheld: A Retelling of Hansel and Gretel (The Becoming Beauty Trilogy Book 3) Page 22